Whatever Will Be Will Be
by Lawliet Veneziano
Summary: A creepy voice sings a sweet song on winter night...  LOTS of character death.


It was cold and snow was falling outside like mad; it was if the sky was angry, wanting them all to stay inside. Footsteps echoed in the big, old house; in corners, under tables and beds, in closets, people shuddered and shivered and cowered. A man, no a mere boy still, was curled up in a darkened sink cabinet, his eyes shut, arms around his legs; as he heard the footsteps he tried to still his breathing, tried to hide his presence. There was silence whenever the feet stopped moving, all except one thing; a voice singing, sweet and innocent as a child's and just as cruel.  
"_When I was just a little girl  
I asked my mother, 'What will I be?  
Will I be pretty, will I be rich?'  
Here's what she said to me..._."

He tightened his shut eyes, tears forming as the footsteps entered the living room. He could hear rummaging and then something being tossed aside harshly; someone cried out, sounding like they could barely breathe, crying for mercy until they stopped and a thud was heard.  
"_Que Sera Sera__  
Whatever will be, will be  
The future's not ours to see  
Que Sera Sera..._"

He tried not to sob, listening to the footsteps leave the living room and come near where he was; he held closer to his legs as he listened and hoped. They came so close, too close, then away; the creak of the stairs accompanied them now and he opened his door just a crack to listen better. The creaks stopped and he could make out the sound of the footsteps above, just above. They were so clear, so eerie, it made his heart jump into his throat; they were above but they felt like they were still very close by. Still the voice was singing so sweetly yet so full of malice, and chills went down his back;  
"_Since I am just a boy in school  
I asked my teacher, 'What should I try?  
Should I paint pictures, should I sing songs?'  
This was her wise reply..._"

A door was kicked in upstairs and the man could hear someone scream then plead, scampering somewhere before stopping. They screamed out for help, for mercy, but no such thing came; they stopped and another thud accompanied the footsteps walking away.  
"_Que Sera Sera  
Whatever will be, will be  
The future's not ours to see  
Que Sera Sera..._"

The stairs creaked again and the boy, terrified by the sounds, closed his door once more, encasing himself once more. He shivered in his cold darkness, pressing to the back as he waited; footsteps coming close once more made his breathing catch in his throat and he bit his lower lip. Something fell over out in the hall, shattering to the ground; he waited for a moment, someone stepping on it to make it shatter more. He imagined a vase or photograph, the glass pieces in shambles; the feet got closer once more and he held his breath. The voice sang;  
"_When I grew up and fell in love  
I asked my sweetheart, 'What lies ahead?  
Will we have rainbows day after day?'  
Here's what my sweetheart said..._"

A door was opened with a creak, thankfully for the male not his own; something was dragged out, two things, and two voices begged for mercy in sad voices. But slowly they weakened, became smaller and smaller before becoming thud; only the man was left, he knew it.  
"_Que Sera Sera  
Whatever will be, will be  
The future's not ours to see  
Que Sera Sera..._"

He tried not to cry as the footsteps approached. He tried not to whimper as they sounded on the kitchen floor. He tried not to pray as they came to his sink, a bottle being set down on the counter and another knocked to the ground. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited and frightened he clenched his legs tight to his body, squeezing his eyes shut. Feet banged against the doors and fingertips drummed in the sink as all became still before light came in, he was pulled out and he was face to face with the cruel voice. Outside the doorway he could see Eduard and Laivis' bodies face-down; he thought of Feliks upstairs and Katarina in the living room. He cried, waiting as the voice sweetly mused;  
"_Now I have children of my own  
They ask their mother, 'What will I be?  
Will I be pretty, will I be rich?'  
I tell them-_"

Thud.

" _'__Wait and See__.'_ "

~~~  
Veneziano: the last person was Toris and our "cruel voice"? Um well...  
Ivan: the song was "Que Sera Sera". Listen to it, its very pretty…. *cruel smile*


End file.
